


Before and After

by Havenlyfics



Series: The Things We Do [2]
Category: The Walking Dead & Related Fandoms, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Brother-Sister Relationships, Drabble, F/M, Flashbacks, Original Character(s), Plans For The Future, Secrets, Smut, Spoilers, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 14:56:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17347292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Havenlyfics/pseuds/Havenlyfics
Summary: Just a smutty drabble featuring characters from my existing monster fic "we can't keep doing this". A little window into Delle and Eric's lives then, and Delle and Negan's lives now.Word of warning, this won't make alot of sense if you haven't read the original piece; but hey, have fun with this if you're into it!





	Before and After

**Author's Note:**

> Couldn't stay away from these two forever!

**_Somewhere during the Apocalypse..._ **

_"Delle, sweetheart..."_  
  
She turned in her sleep, seeking out that gravelly voice she loved.  
  
_"Babygirl, rise n' shine - been missin' you all night..."_  
  
Her lips curved into a sleepy smile, hands roaming her blanket.  
  
"Time to wake up."  
  
Her eyes opened bleary to the greenish light of morning as sun filled her tent. She glanced around, sleep still holding her mind, as she expected the man she'd been dreaming of to be right by her side; but as per usual, she woke alone, in her mussed sleeping bag.  
  
"Delle!" That voice she did recognize, though he was always more of a morning person than she was. She blinked at tent flap unzipping, her brother's bright face poking in. "Up n' at 'em - we've got scavenging to do."  
  
Giving a yawn, she nodded, crawling from the warm confines of the pop-tent and readying for the day; red leather zipped on, gun strapped to her hip. Nothing like the apocalypse to tell you how good of a shot you are.  
  
"Mornin' Fang," she grunted, wriggling on her boots for the day. She glanced around their makeshift campsite; none of the bell ropes they hung had been tripped, and the fire that had warmed up their meagre tins of Spam the night before was doused. A few more adjustments and it'd be as if they'd never been there. "Don't suppose y'got any coffee goin'?"  
  
She asked that almost every morning, regardless of if they'd managed to find coffee or not. It'd become a running gag,  and a mild salve as she began to kick a caffeine addiction.  
  
"Fresh out," Fang smiled, running a hand through his sandy hair before strapping his rucksack closed. "I got a tin of peaches with your name on it though." He held out the sweet treat, which his sister grabbed up with gusto; it was one of her favorites.  
  
She ate quickly and packed up her tent quicker; she knew they were close to the next town, a small little burb, and if they were lucky it might not be completely picked over. The safest way for them to travel, for the time being, was through the forests; the highways were overcrowded and packed with long abandoned cars, and the back roads held too high a chance of running into another group. Delle didn't mind fighting the odd ornery individual, but Fang wasn't much for it; and usually, he won out.  
  
As they moved as quietly as they could through the forest, ears peeled for the shuffling of the dead, the sun rose higher still; they had hopes of settling in an a deserted house by night fall. "Sleep okay?" Fang asked gently, making conversation.   
  
"Best as I can when the dead are wanderin' around," she murmured with a breathy laugh, eyes sharp on the greenery around them; she had no plans to get bit that day. "You?"  
  
He nodded, his hand tightening around his machete. "Just fine... you were talkin' about him again in your sleep."  
  
Her step faltered for a minute before she released an annoyed sigh; her mouth wouldn't stop running even in slumber. "Can't quite help what I dream about, can I?" She didn't care to meet his eye, knowing he'd be wearing that pitying, concerned expression she could feel in her bones.  
  
"Yeah, of course--"  
  
"So get off my ass about it." She ground out through her teeth.  
  
"I'm not on your ass about it!" He retorted, taking her hand. Still she wouldn't look up at him - she was always stubborn as a mule. "Just... I haven't heard it happen in awhile. Wanted to make sure you're okay."  
  
She pulled away and forged on, the forest beginning to thin at the outskirts of the town. "I'm fine," she hadn't paused that morning to dwell on the feelings that came from dreaming of him; they were usually cold, bitter and not something she needed in her current life. "So I babbled in my sleep; barely remember what I was dreaming about anyway."  
  
Fang sighed, keeping up with her step, seeing through that lie. "Even if you didn't," he tried to speak softly, knowing his sister's temper. "He must be on the brain, to have him messing with your sleep."  
  
She shut her eyes, grumbling as grass turned to pavement, trees to small, run down houses. "Why's it even matter if he's on my mind? World's gone to shit, in case you haven't noticed," she gestured with her arms to the eerie silence around them. "He's probably worm food by now."  
  
They made their way to the first house that looked somewhat untouched; the door hadn't been kicked in at least. She drew her handgun from its holster, the hunting knife from her boot; there was no telling what to expect there.  
  
"Lure 'em out, Fang." Delle gave a nod as he banged the dull side of his blade against a door frame. As the reverberation silenced, they listened for telltale rasping and growling; nothing answered them. Their bodies relaxed, and they set to work in taking apart the house's first floor; namely, the kitchen.  
  
They were elated to find a few cans left in the cupboards; old peas and corn and carrots, but nutrients nonetheless. Powdered soups could be stretched for months on end, and a heavy, dusty can of tomatoes would keep them going as well. It was better than they'd banked on.  
  
"What I'm saying Delle is you must be feeling off," she rolled her eyes as her brother wouldn't let the topic go. "If you're thinking of him. We should talk about it."  
  
"Fuck, you're like a dog with a bone," she groaned as she crawled up on a counter, thrilled to find two unopened bags of dried pasta; it was practically a buffet. "I'm fine. He's probably long dead, no use dwelling on him."  
  
"But you _are_ dwelling on him," Fang pointed out, packing the freshly found items in his bag. "Why?"  
  
She glanced at his warm, inquisitive brown eyes; it was hard to resist him when he was focused, and there wasn't much else to focus on. "I don't know," she shrugged, climbing down and nodding to survey the rest of the house. "Y'know what it's like, now that this whole world is garbage... your mind drifts off to h--different times."  
  
It stung him with hurt and guilt as she changed her words. He knew she would've called her months with him happier times; turbulent and anguished though they were, she'd been in love. In their lives now, where every day was a fight, it made sense to retreat to a softer time in sleep. "I get it," Fang offered, following her through a dining room, where she gladly pulled a few choice knives from a cabinet of silverware. "Gotta... think of when things were different; even if they were with him."  
  
She'd always hated how he referred to him; the way he spat the words, like the mere mention of him was poison. "It's not doin' me harm to think about the guy," she muttered. "Sure, I don't have all that much time to draw from, and I know the fucker didn't leave me on good terms... but hey, what's it gonna hurt now? What am I gonna do, text him?"  
  
He watched as she ascended the staircase, on the hunt for the bathroom; guilt still rang in his chest over his choices that fateful year. He always said he'd tell her, explain why he'd told the school, why he'd driven him off... but as days wore on, it became too great, too large a betrayal, and when the dead started to rise, there wasn't alot of time for heartfelt confessions.  
  
But now - now there was time.  
  
And he still hadn't found the words.  
  
So he followed in silence as his sister dug through the house's medicine cabinet. She congratulated herself on finding a few medicines they could use, useful stuff on the road, plus bandages and rubbing alcohol; hygiene was important. He swallowed, trying to summon his nerve again. "W-what would you say to him? If you saw him again?"  
  
She stopped, looking up into her reflection in the bathroom mirror; her glass twin didn't seem to have a ready answer either. "How should I know?" She decided. "I'll never see him again anyway, so who gives a shit?"  
  
"I do," she looked nonplussed to Fang, his concern plastered on his face. "I don't like you hurting, and I like it even less when you don't tell me... please, Delle?"  
  
Her gaze fell to her hands, smoothing over a gauze patch in her grasp. What would she possibly have to say to him? The break had been painful, but clear; he'd stayed away from her. Probably hated her since, taking his wife's side. "I... I'd tell him..." again she met her reflection's eye, and it was as if she was in his office all over again. "I'd tell him to go back to his wife."  
  
He dropped his head into his waiting hand, squeezing his eyes shut. She gave that answer more than any other, whenever he'd tried to broach the issue. It's what she'd told him to do; even when it'd felt like her heart was being torn from her chest, she'd told him to let her go. She didn't need to tell Fang for him to know how much she wished it'd been different, how she'd secretly hoped against hope that life would let them be together; he knew it by the tears she'd shed, her silence at his name, and how even now, he still lingered in her head. She pushed past him and headed down the stairs again, making for the fenced in back yard; it'd be where she'd cook their dinner.  
  
"Delle, you can be honest with me," he pleaded, following her rapid, avoiding pace. "Be honest with yourself! Just say what you're wanting to say, at least to get a little freedom from him--"  
  
"I've got all the freedom I'll ever need, Fang!" She growled back, brow furrowing in determined anger. "I will _never_ see him again! It ended, he left, world ended too! That's the whole story!" She nearly yanked the back door off its hinges as she stomped outside. "He took off and didn't give me a second thought, so stop making me think of him at all!"  
  
This was it - he could tell her, come clean. Sure she'd be mad, maybe furious - but it'd be closure. He took a deep breath summoned all his courage. "Delle I--"  
  
He didn't get the words out before the hissing and gnashing registered in his ears.  
  
Neither of them had taken into account the attached shed next to the house, or that it might be dangerous; which it was. Four full sized corpses were lunging at them, clearly starved; the conversation immediately put on hold.  
  
"Fuck!" Delle declared, getting low to the ground and preparing to strike with her knife; Fang was already cleaving into the dead thing closest to him, lodging his machete in its skull. Delle smirked at that before bringing her blade up through the jaw of one body, severing the brain stem; the second earned a carefully timed shot between the eyes. She turned to check on Fang--  
  
\--only to find him on the ground, pinned by a double wide corpse who was dying to bite him.  
  
"Delle, help!" He screamed; no time for heroics then and there. His machete had got itself lodged in the first attacker, and the second one's weight had tossed him down like a doll. Now he was focusing all his strength into keeping it's snapping, famished mouth from sinking into his flesh.  
  
Delle moved without thinking, grabbing the first blunt object she could find and laying into the dead thing's head with vicious anger and power. "*Get the fuck off him!!" She roared, fully aware that the body had slumped off of Fang, but still, she kept pounding into its skull, caving it, turning it into blackish red slurry on the unmanicured lawn.  
  
"D-Delle I think-- I think you got him..." Fang's voice finally got through to her as she let her relentless assault end, panting and spattered in blood. "Don't think he's getting up again." She looked down to the body, it's head completely vanished except for the puddle of goo where it should've been, and then to her hand, to inspect her makeshift weapon.  
  
A blood and brain soaked baseball bat.  
  
Fang caught her shoulder, giving it a grateful squeeze and her a smile. "Thanks, sis," he meant it. "I'd be biter-bait without you."  
  
Catching her breath she scoffed, tossing the bat aside. "You're fuckin' right you would be," she made for the house again, gesturing for him to follow. "C'mon. I saved your life, so you're cookin'."  
  
He smiled and followed; their earlier conversation had left them both.  
  
But the memories of Negan never left her. 

____________________________________

**_Somewhere else in the Apocalypse..._ **

"Delle, sweetheart..."  
  
She turned in her sleep, seeking out that gravelly voice she loved.  
  
"Babygirl, rise n' shine - been missin' you all night..."  
  
Her lips curved into a sleepy smile; and this time her hands found skin.  
  
Her eyes opened slowly, fluttering against the light, to find the owner of that gravelly voice by her side. "Mornin', beautiful."  
  
"Mm... g'morning geezer," he chuckled as her lips met his in a lazy kiss, mouths reintroducing themselves after hours spent asleep. She let herself melt into him as his arms came around her, pulling her bare body against his own. "Have you been watchin' me sleep, you old perv?"  
  
Negan smirked down at his self-appointed wife, ruffling her sleep mussed hair. "So what if I have? You're nice to look at," sometimes, just after waking, the pain he'd endured from his years apart from her would feel fresh and raw again; like they needed to reunite all over again. "Wouldn't be stickin' around otherwise."  
  
She snorted and pecked his lips. "Right, okay," she chuckled, beginning to detangle herself from his grasp, but he only pulled her closer. "C'mon Negan, day's not gonna wait for us forever."  
  
He dipped his head into the curve of her shoulder, dousing her skin in kisses; he smiled to himself as she shivered. "It can wait a little longer," he murmured, rolling their bodies so she laid on her back, his body braced over her; her brows raised as she now felt an insistent hardness against her thigh, hot and eager. "Like I said, been missin' you."  
  
Her arms curved around his broad back, her mouth twitching at a smile. "Hell of a way to wake up," she cupped the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss; less introductory, far more fiery. Morning breath be damned, tongues met with hungry intensity as two sets of hands grasped and toyed at their partner, his beelining for her breasts, as she dug her nails in where his hips met his ass. The tip of his cock met her folds, still moist from the night before's activities and growing more so, his mouth worrying her neck and shoulders. "Mm... just like that..."  
  
His laugh rumbled in the crook of her shoulder, one hand reaching down to ready her sex for him. He was pleasantly surprised to find her half soaked already; though Negan wasn't the type to half ass his lady's pleasure. She gasped for him as the pads of his fingers danced around her clit, body shivering in his warm embrace. "Oh I think she likes _that_ more," he teased, his fingers sliding into her waiting pussy as his thumb took up residence on her pearl of nerves. This earned a louder moan. "Matter of fact I think she _loves_ it."  
  
"Fuck you, y-you know I do," her eyes rolled back behind their lids as his digits expertly found her sweet spot, massaging the spongy flesh with well practiced precision; he knew how to make his girl purr. "Ah, Negan yes..." she hissed softly, her lips and teeth beginning a playful assault on his neck and ear, tongue teasing the lobe like he liked it.  
  
"Mmf, that's it sweetheart, good girl," a slightly louder moan had his hand sliding over her mouth, keeping her nose free to breath; it made his busier hand double it's efforts though, thrusting at a feverish pace. "Gotta try and keep quiet, Delle; don't need junior walkin' in on us in the throes."  
  
Her eyes pleaded for more, but her head nodded in agreement; little Eric didn't need to see his parents in such a state. Her legs shook as he pressed harder against her clit, the throbbing of the little pleasure center magnified into a pounding sensation against his hand; the man was good. "Mmff--neh--" 

"Shh, it's okay baby," he leaned into her ear, tracing it's ridge with his nose. "You come; come all over my hand then I'll fuck you like it's my last day on earth," the promise of his thick cock splitting her in her favorite ways guaranteed her orgasm; nails sunk into flesh and she nearly bit his palm as her climax hit hard and fast, spasming around his still moving fingers, toes curling against their mattress. He smirked down at her, his hand never ceasing until her moans ebbed off, he'd seen the whites of her eyes, and moved his hand away to see her mouth deliriously slack in euphoria. There were few things quite so rewarding. "Good fuckin' girl."  
  
Her loose lips curved up into a smile, eyes glazed but no less mischievous. "Heh, I aim to please," despite her legs being warm jelly, she managed to curve one around his hip, pressing her ankle against his ass to push his pelvis into hers. "You gonna make good on that fucking too? Or was that all talk?"  
  
He scoffed, taking hold of his solid length at the root, lining himself up with her still twitching pussy. " ' _All talk_ '!" He grunted, sliding into her heat, the aftershocks of her orgasm giving him pause, suppressing a groan. "I make good on my promises, you little shit."  
  
"The Negan guarante-e," she lost the last half of the word as he hilted himself in her, the position one they'd been in countless times before, though she'd never tire of it. Like that, in his arms, those dark eyes on her, him buried deep - it was home. He seemed in no rush to reach the finish line that morning, his hips pulling back in long, slow strokes; determined to last as long as he could before he came, or the day had to start. "O-oh yes... oh Negan..."  
  
"Delle," he was all too happy to murmur her name back against her lips, hands stroking her hair nearly in time with his languid thrusts, relishing the feeling of every muscle clamping against him; she was just as much his home. "Shit you feel so good... fuck you're like heaven..." his eyes met hers, bright and lively behind a lusty glaze; he loved her like this, when he could make her feel so safe, letting every wall down for him. It was one of his proudest accomplishments. A harder buck of his hips had her nearly yelping, clapping her own hand over her mouth to keep silent; he couldn't help a grin. "Oh you want it like that, baby?"   
  
Her brain was a bit sex-addled, but she could still form words. "Y-you fuck me hard and your son will definitely wake up," still he grew rougher, fucking her in a way that made her body shudder. "H-how do you want to e-explain what daddy is doing t-to mommy?"  
  
"We're makin' him a baby brother," he answered so matter-of-factly, she didn't think to question it as one hand moved from her hair to her breast, flicking at her nipple before his lips wrapped around it. "Now let me give it to you like I know you want it."  
  
To keep from screaming she sank her teeth into his shoulder - an area used to her bites - as he went from sensual love-making to full on pounding her; his pelvis ground into her clit on every thrust, which only amplified her excitement. He knew how to get her there, and he was getting her there fast. "Nngh yes, oh god there, there--!" She cried out, muffled by his skin, the ridge of his sex ramming against her inner spot with blinding results; she was close now.  
  
"Mm I can feel you squeezin' me," he whispered into her ear, his rutting almost animal now; he'd grabbed on hip to keep her steady below him, his body pistoning them both to their highs. "Gonna make you come, sweetie; come all over my dick, then I'm gonna come on those perfect tits--"  
  
"N-n--no-" she managed to eek the words out, though she was teetering on the edge of coherent thought. She was sure; a good night's sleep had cemented her decision. "C-come inside me Negan... fill me up." 

His movements stuttered for a moment, his head pulling back to meet her eyes; he'd been kidding about the baby brother thing, was she really asking--? "You sure, Delle?" He asked, his thrusts slowing but not ending. "I come inside you... might be lookin' at a _long_ nine months..."  
  
She locked her legs around his hips, holding him inside her. She cupped his face in her small hands and brought their lips into a kiss before smiling with confidence. "I'm sure," a world full of the dead hadn't kept them from raising and protecting their boy so far; and she wanted Negan to experience it with her this time. "Knock me up, you big bad wolf."  
  
That was the blessing he needed; the next kiss was vicious, passionate as his body took up its relentless fucking, this time with a goal in mind. "Oh fuck yes," he growled, the sound of her wetness around him all the more music to his ears. "Fuck, gonna fill you up babygirl, gonna get this belly swellin', goddamn..."  
  
"Mm, yes Negan!" it was an affirmation and exclamation, her body arching as she closed in on her peak; she was like a vice around him now, and his furrowed brow meant he was close too. Her hands pulled him in for a kiss again, his mouth the only thing muting her as her second climax of the barely begun day washed over her; and as her sex constricted around his cock, he was done for.  
  
"F-fuck, Delle--!" He was louder than he'd meant to be as he lost control, thick seed spilling into her channel, his muscles twitching and flexing in the aftermath. His breath came out in pants as both their eyes finally opened, an unspoken delight between them over what they might've just created. He planted soft kisses against her lips over and over, in praise and hope. "I love you, Cornish, I love you so damn much--"  
  
"Mamma?" Both of them froze up as they heard their child's distinctive voice outside their door, as well as the doorknob beginning to creak.  
  
" _Don't come in!_ " Negan boomed, dragging the blanket over his and his wife's body instinctively; his son was prone to not listening. "Mom and Dad are havin' a private talk!"  
  
"Wha' 'bout?" He could hear sleep in Eric's voice - he must've woken the inquisitive little five year old. "You okay?"  
  
"We're fine, kiddo!" Delle had a talent for diffusing the boy's curiosity. "We're just about done! We'll be out soon and I'll fix you some grub!"  
  
There was a pause, before a yawn. "Okay mamma." With any luck, the boy was padding back to bed. His parents breathed a sigh of relief; it wouldn't have been the first time their son had caught them doing such things, but he was at an age where he was liable to remember. Negan ruffled his wife's hair before kissing her forehead.  
  
"Did you really mean it?" He questioned, catching her eye. There was hope and concern in him. "D'you really want another baby?"  
  
She swatted him on his shoulder and rolled her eyes. "No, I just let mister fertile pump me full of come for the thrill of it," she softened her edge with another kiss. "I mean it. Life is safer now. I think we can handle one more."  
  
He grinned wider than she'd ever seen, his eyes sparkling. "Sure can," he whispered. "We've got this shit."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! 
> 
> Let me know if you all would like more stories like this; I hope I still kept true to my characters and to our favorite tyrant, Negan ♡ 
> 
> Comment/kudos please and thank you!


End file.
